


An Intrepid Reporter's Nightmare

by SymphonyWizard



Category: Smallville
Genre: F/M, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 03:58:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10891236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SymphonyWizard/pseuds/SymphonyWizard
Summary: Chloe has a bad dream.  Clark "punishes" her for it.Set sometime maybe mid to late season seven, but before Lex fires Chloe.





	An Intrepid Reporter's Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [legendarytobes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendarytobes/gifts), [The_Fallen_Sky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Fallen_Sky/gifts).



I wake with a scream as I sit upright.  Panting hard, I feel tears begin to roll down my cheeks.  At the same time, I feel a large strong hand snake its way up my back, drawing invisible patterns.

"Everything okay, Chlo?" asks Clark, his voice groggy from sleep.  "It sounded like you were having an intense dream."

As I catch my breath, I sigh heavily.  "It was horrible."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Clark asks as he sits up and slips the hand on my back around my shoulders.  I almost whimper at the loss of sensation his hand was creating in my back.

I rest my head against his shoulder and moan.  "It's too embarrassing."

"Aren't most dreams embarrassing?" the reasonable tone in Clark's voice does little to make me feel better.

Still I say, "Good point."  Oh, what the hell.  It's dark out, but I can tell that Clark is listening intently as I describe my dream.

So I was a princess.  I was a brave princess and I was quest to save the love of my life, Prince Clark.  Clark laughs at that revelation, but quickly regains control of himself, albeit with difficulty.  So there I was, Princess Chloe of the magical land of Metropolis and I was betrothed to Prince Clark of Krypton and it was our wedding night.  Everything was perfect and I was wearing a gorgeous gown...until the evil witch, Lana Lang came and snatched my Clark from me just as I reached the alter.  That was very rude of her.  Wasting no time, I grabbed my sword and together with my valiant golden steed, Shelby, I raced to her castle.  I wanted my man back.  I made it to her castle and I found it surrounded by a forest of thorns and brambles.  Well, if was going to have to chop my way through then so be it.  In my dream, I think my face got scratched up really bad before Shelby and I made it through.  I made it through only to find Clark with his mouth firmly pressed to Lana's lips.  They noticed me and laughed.  They laughed!  And Clark told me, "Can't you see?  I'll never be yours."  And his heat vision burst in my direction.  

"And that's when I woke up," I finish with a whimper.  

Clark is silent for a minute or two before he starts laughing.

"It's not funny!" I protest.  

"Pretty funny," says Clark between laughs.

In the semi-darkness I give him an indignant look.  "Clark, it was a  _really_ horrible dream!"

"I'm sure it was," laughs Clark. 

I swear if he doesn't laughing, I will find a massive lump of kryptonite and shove it up so far up his ass, he'll never be able digest anything ever again.  As if Clark heard my thoughts, his laughter soon dies down a bit and his tone becomes more gentle.

"Oh, sweetie, it was just a dream," he reminds me, reaching over with his other hand and pushing some of my hair out of my face.  "Wait a minute, are you  _still_ worried about Lana?"

All I can do is offer a confessional moan.  She was his first love after all.  More than once this year, Lana has tried to win Clark's heart back after she faked her death and each time she has failed.  She even tried to kill me once over him.

Well, when Clark and I found out how she discovered his powers, trapping me in Lex's wine cellar, I saw one of those very rare occasions where Clark lost all respect for her.

Still, I worry.

Clark scoffs.  "Chloe, whose bed are you in?"

"What?  What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just answer the question, Chlo," he commands calmly.

I sigh heavily.  "Yours."

"And who asked you to move in with him a few months back?"

"You did."

"Whose old football jersey are you wearing?"

An amused smile spreads across my lips.  "Yours."

"And who tells you every day that he loves you?"

What's the "twenty questions"?  "You do."

"And who offered you the bracelet on your wrist?"

I glance down at my wrist and stare at the strange Kryptonian bracelet fondly.  "You did."

"And who offered you the engagement ring on your finger?"

Now I'm smiling as I look at the ring on my finger.  I don't know if it's really a diamond or not, but Clark made it from a simple silver band and a little crystal from his fortress.  I even smile as I remember how he proposed to me right in the middle of the Daily Planet.  "You did," I reply dreamily."

"And who," his voice drops to a husky whisper against my neck, "is about to punish you for being so damn sexy?"

I gulp even as I feel a rush of moisture between my legs.  "You are?"  

"Right again," confirms Clark in that husky whisper.

I lean toward him, to try and capture his lips with mine, but he puts a strong, soft finger to my lips and pushes me away.  I almost whimper in protest, but he removes his arm from around my shoulders and places his hand on my chest as he gently pushes me down.  A wave of hopeless need and longing overcomes me and I no longer feel hopeless from my stupid nightmare.  

"Does the condemned have a last request?" asks Clark.

"Make me scream, farm boy," I reply huskily as I spread my legs, inviting him.    

Clark shifts positions on the bed so that he is between my legs.  My ache for him to touch me is so great, it's almost painful.  Then I feel him lift my leg to his lips and I drop my head back against the pillow as he plants a soft kiss to my ankle.  He's not wearing a shirt, so I get to feel the strong muscles of his shoulder as he continues to plant soft, wet kisses on my leg, slowly, ever so slowly working his way up.  I should be used to him touching me, but every time it feels different, as if he's always thinking of different ways to make love to me.  By now, Clark's lips have reached my thigh and my breath becomes a breathless pant as he slips a hand beneath my jersey and explores my stomach.

The more he touches me, the more I ache, the more I feel like I might die if I don't get release soon.  Then...then I feel his tongue on my outer folds at the same time the hand on my stomach travels up to my breast and starts playing with my nipple.  I cannot breathe.  I cannot seem to get out any clear words, so I just say Clark's name over and over again as I fight to keep still, to try and extend the pleasure for as long as I can.  

I still can't decide if the lack of intercourse is really a punishment, especially when it's Clark making love to me.

Clark reaches my most sensitive spot and sucks a little.  I scream.  Clark has done this to me many times, but as obtuse as he can be, even in a relationship, he's not stupid.  He never does the same things to me twice.  At least, not twice in a row.  I hold onto his hair for dear life as he cleverly alternates between licking and sucking and playing with my breasts.  Then, I start to feel his tongue pick up speed.   _Oh, God, he's not gonna..._ oh, yes he was gonna.  I guess I should be grateful for the benefit of a fiance with super-speed and all that implies.  Clark's tongue starts slow, but then it picks up speed to the point that any normal human being would have a mouth-ache...and faster.  

I can't hold it back anymore.  My body begins to pulse and vibrate and my screams become louder than I think should be possible for my larynx to handle.  Finally, it's over and I'm still shaking from the aftershocks as Clark lifts his head and comes up to snuggle beside me.

"So, lesson learned?" he asks, I can hear the smile in his voice.  

It takes me several minutes to catch my breath and I smile in the darkness.  "Not quite," I answer in my best seductive voice.  I push at him a little and I lift a leg over him, straddling his legs.  I begin pulling at his blue pajama bottoms and his boxers along with them.  Once those are out of the way, my hands snake up his legs until my fingers wrap around his engorged cock.

"My turn to punish you," I whisper.

"Don't I get a last request?"

"Oh, Clark," I croon.  "Don't you know?  Sexy aliens don't get last requests."  And my mouth descends on the love of my life.  And everything attached to him. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at meaningless smut, so hope I delivered.


End file.
